


A Walk in the City

by SuperSpookyAlienInvaders



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Big Christmas trees, Christmas in New York, First Dates, Food Trucks, M/M, My attempt at something cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-26 20:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17148743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperSpookyAlienInvaders/pseuds/SuperSpookyAlienInvaders
Summary: Alexander and John walk the New York City streets, looking at the lights. First dates on Christmas Eve are the best.





	A Walk in the City

**Author's Note:**

  * For [IsleofCrete](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IsleofCrete/gifts).



> Yet another thing gifted to IsleofCrete. Yay! This is my first Lams fic and Hamilton fic in general. It was kind of a heat of the moment thing, so I apologize in advance for any errors.

“It’s fine, everything’s going to be fine,” John muttered to himself as he pulled a cream colored turtleneck sweater over his head. “It’s just a date. Nothing more than a date. A Christmas Eve date. We’re just walking the city to see the lights. You’ve walked the lights a thousand times, John, it’s no big deal!”

“John, it’s seven. Shouldn’t you be heading— whoa, okay,” Lafayette poked his head into the room but stopped short at the sight of John. “ _ Mon ami, _ you look ridiculous.”

“Thanks, Laf, not like I’m totally freaking out or anything. Would it hurt to lie just this once?”

My dear Laurens, you are wearing salmon colored pants.”

John looked down. That’s what he got for trying to get dressed in the dark. He swore they were his black skinny jeans when he had pulled them out of the dresser.

John sank onto his bed. “I can’t do this, Laf; I’m a mess.”

“I did not watch you pine over this man for three months just for you to back out at the last second because you chose the wrong pants from your dresser.  _ Pas moyen en enfer! _ ” Lafayette pushed the door open and invited himself in, brushing right past John and pulling his drawers open. “ _ Voyons voir ici, _ ah! I believe these are what you were looking for.” He flung the black jeans at John before moving to the small closet across from the bed. After shuffling through the few coats and jackets John had, Lafayette pulled a dark gray peacoat off its hanger. “And put that on too. I’m going to get you a beanie from Herc’s room.”

John groaned good naturedly. As annoying as Lafayette coming in and taking over was, John was always grateful. He wasn’t nearly as good as the Frenchman or their other roommate, Hercules, who was attending a fashion school to become a designer, when it came to making outfits. Throwing the awful, salmon colored pants across the room (Why did he even have those?), John quickly pulled on the black jeans and grabbed a pair of ankle socks out of a basket on top of his dresser. He fixed the neck of his sweater in the mirror and threw the peacoat over his shoulder. With one last look around the room, John went to find Lafayette. 

“No,  _ vous imbécile _ , he needs the gray one!” Laf shouted, voice loud and clear even though he was across the apartment in Herc’s room. “For someone who goes to school for fashion I should think you would be better at this. I’m not letting him wear a cream beanie!  _ C'est dégoûtant _ !”

John assumed Hercules gave in because Lafayette was swinging the handmade gray beanie around his finger triumphantly when he met John at the door. John pulled his hair back into a low ponytail, feeling the baby hairs that framed his face pop out, and reached for the beanie. 

Lafayette hid the hat behind his back. “It will be easier if you put it on last, _ mon ami. _ That way it won’t get messed up when you put your shoes and coat on.”

John huffed and walked over to the shoe rack by the door. A couple weekends ago, Lafayette had had a meltdown from the stress of finals and organized the whole apartment. John and Hercules weren’t complaining, especially because the apartment was a mess and neither of them liked cleaning. John glanced over his few pairs of shoes and decided on a pair of gray, ankle high boots. He cuffed his jeans and laced the boots up. Then he pulled on the coat. 

“Now can I have it?” he asked, making grabby hands for the beanie. 

“Which boxers are you wearing?” Laf asked out of the blue.

“W-what?” John sputtered. 

“Not those turtle ones, right?”

“No, I’m wearing black ones. Wait, why do you care?!”

Lafayette shrugged. “Just want to make sure you are prepared for if this date goes, well,  _ plus que bien.” _

“I don’t even—just give me the stupid hat,” John demanded, his face heating up. 

Lafayette handed the beanie over reluctantly, and John put it on, reveling in its softness.

“You look great,  _ mon ami _ . Hercules, John is leaving; come out here.”

Hercules’s grumbling was audible even behind his bedroom’s closed door. The design student hung his head out the door. “You look nice. Have fun.”

Lafayette gasped, “Is that all?  _ Typique! _ This is John’s first date in nearly a year and a half! Bring your camera and take a picture of him.”

“No, Laf, I really don’t want my picture taken. That’s going a little overboard. I’m already late as it is; I really need to go.” He turned and grabbed the door knob, but Lafayette had his hand on his shoulder stopping him before he could escape. 

“Just one,” Laf pleaded. “If the date goes well, we can put in that ‘important pictures’ album that Hercules keeps in his room. And if it goes badly, we’ll burn it over the stove.”

John gave in with a sigh and smiled as Herc’s Polaroid flashed. Hercules waved him goodbye, and John dashed out the door, leaving Lafayette aggressively shaking the picture in his wake.

* * *

 

Alexander kicked a chunk of snow lightly with his toe. He checked his phone again; it was ten minutes past 7:30.  _ ‘Five more minutes,’ _ he told himself.  _ ‘Five more minutes, then I’ll text Herc.' _

The Christmas tree in front of the Rockefeller Center was twinkling, and Alexander smiled at it. He wasn’t a religious person, not by a long shot, but he enjoyed Christmas time. Everyone in the bustling city seemed nicer and far more forgiving, and the decorations were beautiful and bright. The street musician that had set up in front of the tree was playing “The Christmas Song” on his saxophone. Alexander shoved his hands in his coat pockets and buried his face in his scarf. New York had taken pity on him and left the skies clear. His Caribbean origins did not make him cold weather friendly, and Alex was thankful for the wool coat and socks he’d gotten as early Christmas presents from his friends once they’d found out about his date. 

Alexander scanned the crowded sidewalk once more, growing more and more anxious by the second. He thought back to his last few interactions with John Laurens. Alex and Hercules worked at the same restaurant, so John and his rather loud French friend, Lafayette, stopped by the restaurant a couple times a week. The owner knew them well, and they pretty much had full range of the small ramen shop. Alex had met John on a particularly crowded night, and John had taken over two of his tables for him. 

_ “Trust me,” _ John had said when Alex asked if he’d be able to handle the brimming bowls of ramen.  _ “I used to work at this super high end Italian restaurant, like black tie high end. It was one of those restaurants that basically serves three mouthfuls per plate and charges $75 for each of them. So you can imagine just how many dishes I can to carry just for one table to have a decent meal. Three platters per arm one time! Trust me, man,”  _ John winked.  _ “I got this.” _

And thus Alexander Hamilton’s massive crush on John Laurens was born. 

Eventually they had exchanged numbers and grown closer, especially with Hercules wingmanning both of them. All four of them had even spent a night in the restaurant, drunk on sake and beer. Alex looked up at the Christmas tree once more, the twinkling reminding him of the day only a week ago that John had tripped over a string of lights and fallen into Alex’s chest. Alex had barely stopped himself from leaning in to kiss the curly haired man, but he’d managed. Alexander did try to stay classy and figured he should probably take John out at least once before trying to kiss him. Alex smiled into his scarf and felt for his phone. Just before he could pull it out, he heard his name. 

“Alex! Hey! Sorry I’m late,” John greeted as he approached. “You weren’t waiting too long, were you?”

“No, no, not at all.”

The worried expression on John’s face faded and was replaced with a bright smile. “Thank God. I was totally freaking out.” John turned to face the tree, and his face lit up. “I never knew just how big it is! Holy shit!” He held onto his beanie as he tilted his head up to see the star. 

“You’ve never seen the tree?”

“Of course I’ve seen the tree,” John blushed. “I’ve just never seen it this close.”

Alex smiled, and the two headed down the sidewalk towards Times Square.

“Are we going super touristy or back route, hidden gems?” Alex asked, glancing over at John.

“Your choice as long as we get food first; I’m starving.”

“There’s a really great food truck just outside of Times Square. I know the owner.” Alex grabbed John’s hand and began weaving through crowded packs of tourists and businesspeople rushing to get home to their families. John’s laughter behind him was music to his ears.

“General!” Alex shouted, banging on the side of the silver truck. 

“We’re fucking closed!” a man that looked to be in his fifties shouted back through the small window at the front of the truck. “It’s holiday hours.”

“Oh, come on, Washington, it’s Alex. And I brought company.”

“Alex?” The main side window rolled up, revealing the man in full. “I would have thought you’d be sitting alone in your dorm with a bag of popcorn and a crappy movie. Ah ha, who’s this?” Washington’s eyes landed on John, and the younger man offered a small wave and a big smile. “This wouldn’t happen to be the young man you’ve been telling me about, would it?”

“George, not now,” Alex hissed through his teeth.

The man chuckled and stuck out his hand. “It’s an honor. Not much other than politics and injustice get Alex riled up, so you’re a nice change of pace.”

“George, who’s there?” a feminine voice asked from inside the truck. “We’re supposed to be closed.”

“I know, Martha,” George called back. “It’s Alex. And he brought that guy he’s been talking about.”

“Oh!” Martha appeared next to George in the window, drying her hands on a hand towel with a map of the original thirteen colonies on it. “I must say, it’s about time, young man. I thought I’d be in an old folks home before you finally brought someone to see us.”

Alex blushed and kicked at the concrete. “I really have been meaning to. It’s just, school takes up so much of my time, and dating really isn’t my forte.”

Martha laughed heartily and rested her hands on her hips. “I’m not complaining, dear.” She stuck her hand out to John just as her husband had. “Martha Washington. Any friend of Alex’s is a friend of ours.”

“John Laurens,” John introduced himself, surprised by the firmness of Martha’s handshake. “It’s a pleasure.”

Martha smiled. “So what can we get you boys tonight? Everything’s on the house.”

“In that case, I’ll have the-”

“Don’t push it, son,” George warned, cutting Alex off.

“Okay okay, I’ll have a gyro. And for you?” Alex asked, turning his head in John’s direction.

“Umm,” John hesitated, looking over the menu as fast as he could. “I’ll have the same thing if that’s alright.”

“Of course. Two gyros,” Marth said cheerily, and she and her husband set about making them. 

The pitas were steaming hot and smelled amazing when the Washington’s handed them over, the tin foil wrapping warm to the touch. They said goodbye, and John thanked them profusely while Alex wished the couple Merry Christmas more times than he could count on his fingers. 

“Are they relatives?” John asked as they walked away, taking a bite of the pita in his hands. 

“Ha, I wish,” Alex chuckled. “They’re just close friends.” John looked at Alex over his food, wide eyes silently asking for details. “I didn’t really have anywhere to go when I got to New York. I didn’t have any money; I applied to NYU but hadn’t been accepted yet. It was really stressful, and I don’t tend to handle stress well. Shit happened, and I ended up in the hospital. Martha was the nurse that took care of me and, well, one thing led to another and here we are.”

“It’s great that you found family here. If I didn’t have Laf and Hercules, I don’t know what I’d do.”

“I think you’d make it. You’re strong.” 

John laughed. “At least one of us thinks so.”

Alex finished his pita and threw the wrapper away. John switched his food to his other hand and offered his free one to Alex. Alex took it, clasping their cold fingers together. 

“Have you seen the Macy’s?” he asked, and John shook his head. “I usually avoid it, but I saw some pictures. It looked amazing.”

“Lead the way, Hamilton!” John said, smiling. 

The Macy’s was beautiful and completely packed with tourists. Any sane New Yorker knew to avoid places like this on Christmas Eve. John had thrown away his wrapper somewhere along the way and was pointing to small details in the design that Alex probably would never have noticed. Perks of being an art student. From Macy’s, they went to watch the ice skaters fly across the ice rink, John pointing out the ones that actually knew what they were doing and Alex pretending he was an Olympics judge. 

“And contestant 17 spins in a circle! Oh, and he busts his ass!” 

John was hysterical beside him which was all the more motivation to keep going. 

“Look at that little girl,” John pointed out. There was a girl, who couldn’t have been older that six, skating backwards with practiced ease. “I think we’ve found our gold medalist. Tell all the other contestants that they can go home.”

Alex cupped his hands around his mouth. “ALL OF YOU MAY LEAVE NOW; WE’VE DECIDED ON THE WINNER!” The two of them just laughed at the annoyed and confused looks they got. John’s eyes shone as he pulled Alex away from the edge of the rink. His beanie was lopsided from throwing his head back in laughter so often, and Alex couldn’t stop himself from reaching out an straightening it. John blushed when Alex pulled his hands away and muttered a shy thanks.

A couple hours saw them back in front of the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, huddled close together as they looked up at the twinkling lights. Their hands were clasped together tightly, warming each other in the frigid winter air. Couples took pictures and cold, tired children whined around them, but John and Alex paid them no mind. Slowly, their eyes fell away from the Christmas tree and to each other. Alex’s dark brown gazing into John’s bright hazel. Alex moved forward ever so slightly, testing the waters and giving John a moment to back out if he wanted to, but John leaned forward too. The first touch of their lips was fleeting and hesitant, but they quickly gained confidence. John unlatched their hands to bring his arms around Alex’s neck. Alex’s hands anchored themselves on John’s waist. 

John’s flyaway baby hairs tickled Alex’s face, but he ignored them. The softness of John’s lips was far too distracting. A phone flashed as a picture was taken, and they broke apart, John looking down at his shoes while Alex looked for the person that had taken it. A woman in a navy blue knee length coat approached them.

“Sorry, sorry. I just saw you two, and I couldn’t help myself. I’ll totally delete it if you want me to,” she showed them the picture on her phone. There they were, eyes closed, lips pressed together, faces rosy from the chilly air. 

John blushed. “Could you send that to me?”

“Mhm,” the woman hummed, handing her phone over so John could type in his number. “I’m Eliza, by the way, Eliza Schuyler.”

“John Laurens.”

Eliza looked over at Alex like she was expecting a name from him as well. 

“Uh, Alex, Alex Hamilton.”

“Well it’s nice to meet you, John and Alex.” She took her phone when John handed it back. “Sorry about taking random pictures again.”

“It’s fine,” John smiled. “It’s nice.”

Eliza beamed. “I’ll let you two get back to your own Christmas Eve.” She turned away from them and joined another woman in a red coat. “Maybe I’ll see you guys around.”

John waved, and Alex wished her happy holidays. 

“What happened?” John joked, poking Alex in the ribs. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Shut up,” Alex said and rolled his eyes. “I have my eyes on someone else.”

* * *

Alex declined the offer to come in when they arrived at John’s apartment. He said goodnight and departed, cheeks warm and heart happy from the deep goodbye kiss John had given him at the door. 

“How did it go,  _ mon ami _ ?” Lafayette asked before John could even get his shoes off. John shrugged nonchalantly, but he couldn’t hide the blush covering his face. “Just tell me one thing,” Lafayette bargained, and Hercules came around the counter to listen to the conversation. “Was there mouth to mouth contact?”

John couldn’t help the scoff that escaped his lips. “Seriously? Why would I tell you that?”

“Because there’s a dinner date riding on it.”

John sighed. “Yes, in front of the Rockefeller Christmas tree. Oh, and,” he pulled out his phone and unlocked it. “Someone took this.”

Lafayette smirked at the image. “First of all, Herc, I expect dinner before the New Year, and second of all, print that out. It’s going in the album; it’s very important.”

John took the phone back just as it buzzed with a text from Alex.

From Alex:

_ Thanks for tonight, I had fun. Have a Merry Christmas <3 _

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Happy holidays from me to you! If you enjoyed it, drop some kudos and a comment or two! Love you guys! (So many exclamation points)


End file.
